Nobody
by parfaitcheri
Summary: Once upon a time, someone important dissapeared, chaos ensued, lives were crushed and destroyed. The Avatar is gone again, it's been ten years, how much longer will the people have to wait?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar, it's characters, or anything that has to do with it.

I do own any original characters or ideas that may happen to spring up in this work.

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Prologue

People desire hope.

They will, hope and hope even in the most impossible of situations. It is almost sad, how long people can hope for until they finally give up in tragic realization.

One hundred or so years earlier the reason for hope disappeared. The people to whom this hope belonged were devastated. And a few years ago that reason for hope resurfaced. Their Hero had returned.

This wonderful hope did not last though. In the same year that the hope returned, it ominously vanished as well. In the midst of war and horror, their hope left them. And now, with a bloody war dictating our world, we hope endlessly for our Hero to return.

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Edited for extreme clutter to the point where what I was personally saying was longer than the actualy prologue. 


	2. Chapter 1: Hero

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar, it's characters, or anything that has to do with it.

I do own any original characters or ideas that may happen to spring up in this work.

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_CHAPTER 1: HERO_

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Hero, Broken Sword, and Lonely Moon.  
Sweet Blossom, Nameless, Servant's Fool,  
Isolation, Jubilance, and Dancing Rain.  
Lady Night, Withered Lily, White Strength,  
Mistress Snow, Imprisoned Tool, and Faulty Dream.

Forbidden Graces, Precious Queen, Lullaby,

Fragrant Lover, Cursed Laughter, and Resurrection.

"There is a life in commonness, there is none in that of lavish riches. Anything that those who posses power wish, can be made into something of riches, just as well as the common man can turn something valuable into nothingness. It is a common place where I live, a place of fine doings and wealth, a place of sickening poverty and corruption. I have never, and I tell you in an almost regretful tone, lived the common life of the common man! In my same tone I tell you that I never will live that life. I will be hopelessly pampered throughout but I will be no spoiled fool of a child! My life is grand and I hold my head high, my life amounts to worthless, meaningless, perfection, for the lives of nobility much more often than not amount to nothing. That is why I regret to tell you that I am not common, for my name will be recorded in books to come, but that of the common man who liberated us will not! I admit my fears that my life will amount to nothing, however if I were to be noted, I would be noted for things of unforgivable horror. I also admit that I do not want to be remembered as a villain, for I am not. So my dear friends on this festival day, celebrating the life and past lives of our savior I drink to you, to nothingness, to being remembered, and to your deaths!"

There was a loud cheer as I sat down in my seat and for a more odd reason than I can describe, I smiled at that. I had just turned the lives of every person I knew into something meager and worthless and they had cheered for me. I had toasted them to die and they all knew far too well that the death I spoke of was not that of the peaceful sort. They had cheered though, not out of courtesy or respect, in this hall, and especially during festival time, courtesy did not exist. In here you were allowed to say and do whatever it is you pleased, even things considered grotesque and wretched were perfectly fine. Which is why I wondered that nobody had dared to speak an ill word of me as I sat down. I have, however, learned to take praise and blessings as they come, and to not question them too much that I dwell unnecessarily upon them.

I heard my name called from another room, the sound would have been loud had there not been anything blocking the sound, but to me it was none but a whisper. I could recognize that voice anywhere, my dear husband was calling me. He called me by my title, one of my many names, one of my many faces. Scholars of my time have said that the greatest of performers do not have more than one face but rather they have many faces melded into one. This is not true for me. My selves are not melded, we are all completely separate, for there is the need for a different one of us in different situations. Performers on the other hand need for their selves to be melded, they could not perform successfully in their own lives or dances or songs if it were not that way. That is part of the reason that my performances are considered good, but nothing exhilarating or thought provoking. I have a beautiful voice and I can move the dust on the ground with ease but I lack the skills to combine my selves and make myself a whole human being instead of many separate ones. My lack of skill, however, does not amount to my fame, I am far more well known for being who I am than for my talents on the stage.

I was called again, by my husband, as I had taken to ignoring him the first time that he called me, or rather by his 'messenger boy' to inform of such. " Wife and Advisor to the ruler of Ba Sing Se, Sakai," is what he called me. Though thoroughly annoyed with him, I began my march towards him. Do not doubt me in my love for my husband though, for I love him dearly. Without him I would still be the poor, orphaned, unskilled Earthbender girl who stole from beggars on the street. He saved me though, and I now live in luxurious riches, though I am not the first or only wife. I am the favorite wife though, and despite his anger towards my inability to bear children I am the wife that everyone knows about and loves. I am the wife who accompanies him to events like these, festivals, to political engagements, I am the only wife of his who has a real job, other than that of making heirs.

I took the long walk down the many winding hallways towards him, to stand by his side and listen to him talk to his friends, occasionally putting in my own opinion, which I am allowed to do as others would not. Listening to the pointless speak of these men and women, laughing with them, always makes my husband angry. In fact it gets him so infuriated that he begins to point out things wrong with whoever might be near him at the moment. At the end of the night, as we were in our carriage, on the way back to our palace, that person was me. I could tell he was angry, for whenever he gets angry he loses a slight amount of control over his element and our carriage had risen a few degrees in temperature within a scarce amount of seconds.

"You lied tonight, Sakai" he said to me in that oh so suspicious tone of his, as if I were plotting his overthrow.

"I have lied about nothing, and you know me better after nine years than to assume that I would lie about anything," I said to his, my tone matching his. I could easily see his anger rising, and feel it as well, in fact my nicely done up hair was beginning to come undone due to the humidity.

"You lied, to me and everyone else in that room, your self-righteousness about never lying is false for this instance."

"Is it possible for me to inquire and correct you as to what I lied about?" I still spoke in a suspicious tone and my darling husband, annoyed with the fact that I dare to challenge him, could only slouch his rigid stature in his seat and sigh.

"You braved to tell all those people that you have never lived the common life!"

He had yelled at me, I wanted to laugh in his face as he would have done for me, had I been the one correcting him. I did not though but I did release the same sigh that he had only a few moments earlier.

"I have never lived the common life," I said to him, my tone bland and dead as it normally was, " I lived in dirt filled poverty."

"I would call that the common life for the times that we are living in."

"Oh poverty is common my love, but I stole from the poor and the dead, and that is by no means common at all."

"You are simply trying to make yourself sound better than everyone else, trying to best the world for what you have become. You only make yourself seem more pathetic and out of place than out already are. Talking about yourself only makes you seem less than you. You lived a common life, not as common as the multitude, but common in every sense of the word. You are just like so many children of your day, growing up in those conditions , there is no way that you were alone in that poverty. Common is not the common that you define it as, because what common once was is now a luxury. Do not ever dare to try and make yourself different than others, for better or worse you are just like them, your life is in no way different. I could go to the streets and count how many people are just like you because you are a common lady."

Since living this life I have learned when to shut my mouth, although I do not always do so when it is needed. I also know when to admit defeat and when to stop pushing things. I did this now and my husband and I stayed in silence the rest of the trip home. I knew he was right of course, but I have always felt that I cannot be the same as people, that I need to be different from them, whether that difference was good or bad never mattered much to me. And on the trip home, my head bowed in silent shame, my husband sitting rigid again, staring at me with his cold condescending eyes, I made a very important decision.

The decision was still in my mind when we reached home but it was quickly forgotten the second we walked into the door. Out servants stared at the two of us, hair flying in every which way, my melted make-up, our wrinkled and slightly dam clothing. We certainly looked as if we had just shared a moment of passion on the way home and in a sense it was, but not the nice sort of passion. So we left to our room, myself trying not to laugh and I knew my husband was as well but he was a far better actor than myself, his face was set in a steely manner and it would remain that way until we reached out room.

When we finally did reach out room, after what seemed like an eternity of walking in silence, I went immediately to change my clothes behind the curtain.

"You are beautiful," he said to me grabbing my wrist and stopping me from approaching the curtain. I wanted to turn around and hit him, because I knew exactly what was going on. I did not though because I myself was a little starved of love, even if it wasn't the kind that I wanted. He pulled me close to him and we kissed, and our damp clothes came off slowly. We made loveless love until we fell asleep, unable to continue any longer.

My life is very often like that, and in the strangest most simple way I love it for being just what it is, unfulfilling, pointless, almost pathetic nothingness. There really is no reason for my life to be what it is, but I would not change it for the world.

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Any questions feel free to ask I will answer them to the best of my ability. 

Also if anyone does review I am not the type of writer to cower away from flames by hiding behind things such as "it's my first story" or " no flames please." Seriously people go ahead and bash me all you want I won't care much anyway.

Again if there are any questions involving the story, please ask, don't assume things. Feel free to ask if something is meant to be assumed but don't just assume it right away. It's a bother to me when people look at something that the author meant and take it the wrong way just because they didn't understand it fully, so really I stress that you ask.

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Just to clear something up, I haven't a clue as to why the song up above( the one that's centered... and yes it's a song for those who would ask) does that. in my original document it was all they way that the first few lines are, for some reason when transfering it here it made those two skip. oddness but it's nothing to problematic. 


	3. Chapter 2: Broken sword

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar, it's characters, or anything that has to do with it.

I do own any original characters or ideas that may happen to spring up in this work.

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Chapter 2: Broken Sword 

"Yes, and move the right flank to the rear and the rear to the right…. No I do not care if you need to use 'brutal' tactics…. As long as we get as many troops as we can out of there alive."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"How many times have I told you not to question me, you have your own job, and I have mine."

"Brutal' tactics, it seems cruel."

"We're in the middle of a war, you want me to be kind?"

"You will be remembered as a horrible warlord."

"I don't give a damn how I'm 'remembered' as long as I save as many people as I can."

"It's actions like that, that will make you be forgotten."

"Katara, what is your obsession with being remembered? What does it matter if we are remembered, are you too lost in your own head to forget that people are needlessly dying. All you can care about is how I will be remembered? What foolish thoughts, sacrificing lives for a few good words in history."

She remained eerily silent, and after a few moments she cast her head down and left.

"She has changed, you agree?"

"Lord Sokka, I know next to nothing of the old Katara you speak of, but since I have known her, yes she has changed."

"Yes, thank you… you are dismissed Harun."

Sokka sat in his planning room, his head cast downward by the force of his hands. Things had gotten so much worse since the bandits began attacking, using the most… unconventional way of fighting he had ever seen. It was not only things in the tribe though, but it seemed his family was falling apart as well.

His wife had died at the beginning of the war five years ago and despite her amazing fighting skills she received an arrow to the middle of her forehead. Her decapitated skull was left on his doorstep, rotting and decayed. It was really what had started Sokka's grand influence in the war, before he had been wary. He openly admitted, and quite often at that, that he didn't care for the reason of the war, he had joined only for the reason of avenging his dear wife, his dead Suki. It wouldn't be the first time he'd lost a love and after her death, he thought of Yue, in fact, he thought of both of them quite often these days.

His sister too was acting strange, but it was… to be expected. After they had known the young Avatar for nearly two years he had disappeared yet again, that was nearly eight years ago now. Sokka also admitted to feeling like and old man, despite being only twenty-five years old, perhaps he should never have taken his position as ruler and military planner for the water tribe with his sister.

Her odd behavior had started right after they took that position, only two months after Aang went missing. She began obsessing over memories, constantly dwelling in the past. At first it was just simple things, like the telling of a memory she had of everyone. It got worse later, with questions of 'How will he be remembered, he was only really around as Avatar for two years?' and ' It makes me mad that people just want to forget him, they've tried the ritual on all the children born since his disappearance and none have proved correct, it proves he's still alive… why are they so eager to just throw him away like that?' Sokka too missed his old friend, but unlike his sister he realized that life had to go on and there was no point dwelling in the past. He would admit again that he thought about Aang a lot as well, but never to the point Katara had. He'd never let it interfere with their work, never let his reveries go so far as make him do what Katara did, a move that ultimately cost her her title, and to some degree, her sanity.

His relationship with Toph had also faltered greatly after what Katara had done. Felling hurt and neglected, as someone of her age was expected to, she left. Rumors of her still came about now and then, but for the most part, she too had disappeared.

He had gained a few new things though, in these past ten, long years. One of those things was a better understanding of everything, but he didn't look upon that with much happiness. His most treasured gain over the years were the friendships he'd made. This new life of his had forced him to meet many new people, and he'd become close with almost all of them. The most surprising to him and almost everybody else had been with Prince Zuko, or rather Fire Lord Zuko now. It had been about five years ago, Ba Sing Se had fallen and Zuko and Sokka both rallied to help rebuild it. When it was finished, just four months ago, they had high hopes for the city, declaring it independent from all nations. The new leader was an attractive Firebender, older than Sokka but still in his right mind. One might say that his Earthbender wife was also a leader of the grand city, although it was debated due to her being one of the man's twenty or so wives.

During the building process of the city, people had actually been happy, with real and genuine smiles constantly plastered on their faces. Their was a lot of hope in that city. Sokka was happy and remembered the good times with Suki, Katara had stopped talking about memories, and Zuko as it turned out, was actually a rather pleasant person. On the day the city was reopened he could have sworn he'd seen Toph there, if only for a moment.

There was a lot of hope in that city, maybe too much. Things have been falling apart, despite the best efforts of well… everyone. The city is unmatched in poverty, yet again, even though most of the ring systems were destroyed. It was rather sad actually how it had come to fall and how everything around it had begun to fall as well.

He thought horrible things of Suki, and had horrible nightmares about her. Katara's grip on reality seemed to be slipping ever further and though Zuko and Sokka contacted through letters, they were growing shorter and more tense each time. He hadn't even heard any more rumors about Toph since he thought he'd spotted her.

And now he too felt like his sanity was slipping. It was also to be expected, he'd so far lost everyone he'd loved in one way or another. Katara was his only living blood relative, save his daughter, and he wasn't even sure if Suki had parents for him to contact in some way. Two years ago, in a very similar fashion to his wife, his father had died. A year before that his grandmother had died of old age. There wasn't even an Uncle Iroh anymore, it was death by… poisoned tea. He had kept a calm façade through it all, what was a leader supposed to if not lead effectively, anyway?

Eventually, after sitting there for what seemed to be an eternity, he got up, rubbed his temples and went searching for his eight year old daughter.

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Any questions feel free to ask I will answer them to the best of my ability. 

Also if anyone does review I am not the type of writer to cower away from flames by hiding behind things such as "it's my first story" or " no flames please." Seriously people go ahead and bash me all you want I won't care much anyway.

Again if there are any questions involving the story, please ask, don't assume things. Feel free to ask if something is meant to be assumed but don't just assume it right away. It's a bother to me when people look at something that the author meant and take it the wrong way just because they didn't understand it fully, so really I stress that you ask.

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Dear god I hated killing off Suki, I'm not much of a Suki/Sokka fan but I still didn't like killing her off anyway. 

I also like Katara quite a bit actually, but she's just too... too. well she's just to much of one of those like super religious, black and white, right and wrong characters. i like shades of Grey, for Katara there is no grey. I hope I was able to represent that in her inability to understand why people would try to get on with their lives or try to find a new Avatar, even though it wasn't stressed in this chapter... next chapter is Katara's chapter. The next chaptre also explain how our very strong Katara turned into what she is now.

I was also sad to kill off or make a lot of people dissapear, but it is unfortunaltly important for the plot... no matter how hidden and completely unobvious the plot it. Thinking over my idea for other chapters I realized that with the format I've chose to write it in the plot is really hard to find, it seems more like a bunch of mini-stories pushed together to explain things... but there is a plot I promise :P.

Also keep in mind that time and dates as well as memories are particularly important in this, which you will of course find out why in the very very end.


	4. Announcement

Ahem… cough, cough… I( the story) am so sadly on a temporary hiatus.

Why you may ask, well this is because my writer is a total douche bag.

She's the annoying type of asshole that likes to have all the information correct before she starts writing.

So stupid bitch is going to wait until the Avatar season 3 is over, seeing as the writer's said it's going to be the last.

I mean seriously last time this happened it took her like 10 years to write the damn story… although I'm sure she wasn't aware that she wanted to write a Harry Potter fan fiction at the tender age of seven. which she will post in the near future by the way if she not a complete and total lazyass.

Nonetheless! I won't be continued until sometime spring '08 most likely… but the I'll only be written ever once and a while because muckrake is going off to college that fall.

Stupid biomedical engineering majors, stupid med school goers… damn neurologists, I hate them all!!

Anyway farewell until… um… sometime in the future, I will get written though, don't worry, I won't let retard die without finishing me!


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